I ran out of Celexa yesterday and realized it when it was time for bed. (i.e. too late to fill the prescription). It’s kind of amazing how missing ONE pill can just really fark with you.
I had a mostly great day today. Joshua woke up at 4:00, sucked down some milk, and went back to sleep until 6:00, but woke up chattering, which meant I was able to get dressed without my shadow.
Dan, however, woke up not feeling well, which meant I was left to wonder if this was an “I don’t feel well” moment in the “I stubbed my toe and I’m dying” sense or a genuine “I don’t feel well.” (And what is it about machismo that absolutely prohibits men from going to the doctor when their “I don’t feel well” is the genuine variety??)
Aside from that it was business as usual. I was looking cute in my skinny jeans and cardigan and I had my coffee and the kids were engaged in the activities and avidly taking notes and the day was great.
Dan sent me an email around noon to tell me he wasn’t feeling any better and he was leaving work early. So I finished out my day and picked Joshua up and home we went. And when we got here Dan was asleep.
(And for the record, I know that this is genuine “I don’t feel well” sick because he is sleeping in a quite uncomfortable position on the couch and may or may not be drooling on the armrest.)
I closed the bedroom door to let him rest and then we came in the living room and Joshua was OUT. OF. CONTROL. He whined non-stop.
He was cranky and unhappy and he wanted to be held but he didn’t want me to sit down and I had to stand up and hold him.
And then he wanted something to eat and signed “eat,” but then he didn’t want anything to eat and kept signing “all done” and saying it over and over and over and throwing his fork and his peas in the floor.
He kept having meltdowns and tantrums and screaming and banging his head on things out of frustration and all I kept thinking was
“WHY DON’T I EVER GET TO REST?!?!?!?”
Seriously. That’s what I was thinking. Only there may have been expletives in my brain.
And here is where I’m blaming missing my meds last night on my feelings this evening.
I KNOW it’s irrational to be upset that your husband is in the bed because he’s sick. I know that.
But I could NOT stop myself. The longer he stayed in the bed and the louder Joshua screamed at me, the more I resented the fact that he can sleep when he needs the rest. I just don’t feel like I have that luxury. And it kind of makes me want to cry.
I tried texting out my frustrations to my VIP girls and the group-chat feature was screwy so they weren’t getting my texts and I was getting all upset that no one seemed to care that I was about to burst out into tears. I didn’t want to run to twitter and send out a series of ranty tweets that would make me look like Not-Wife-of-the-Year (yet I’ve just blogged it, so, go figure…).
I don’t feel like I get to take breaks. I am everything to everyone and there’s never time to just be what I need for me. And I’ve only been back at work for ONE WEEK, people. One week.
And it sucks.
Wah. Wah. Wah. Woe. Is. Me.
I’m off to take my Celexa and curl up in the fetal position and watch whatever’s saved on the Tivo before I pass out from the exhaustion.